A Forgotten Age
by MCCrocker
Summary: It is just another day among many for Dorian until he comes across several young upshots who hardly believe the events of the past and wish to make a better future. Unfortunately their methods of doing so are not the best forcing Dorian to have to act and stop them.


Dorian let out a long and tired sigh as he signed off on yet another letter regarding the Magisterium. In some ways it felt like it was a tired and old form of governing that was going out with the time and age, much like him regrettably. How many years had it been now since he became a Magister? Too many to count really, and it was a number that he did not want to think too much about. Honestly, Dorian loathed the reminder when he looked at his reflection.

"Amatus, if you could see me now," he said sadly looking out at the window. The sky looked nearly unmarked; over the years it seemed to have healed itself and the looming reminder of what had happened, what seemed like centuries ago, was nearly gone. Of course it hadn't been centuries, but it felt like it. The hole in the sky was another world and another time. He was younger then, oh so much younger then. The end of the world was practically at hand and one man stood out among the masses with a way to possibly save the entire land of Thaedus, the entire world actually. Little did Dorian know that he would have fallen in love then. It was the most inopportune time to be in love, while the world was crashing and burning around them. Very unconventional, but then again, when had he ever been the conventional sort?

The memories of the past, those sweet and precious moments alone with Amatus played in his mind and brought a smile to his wizened face. Dorian let out a sigh and moved from the desk he had been sitting at, deciding it was high time for him to shirk off his duties as Magister and possibly do something a bit more fun. Maybe he could cause a bit of trouble for the local shop keeper. It was a bit amusing to watch the young man rush around in a tizzy trying to find the perfect cloth for such an auspicious client. If Dorian were a much younger man, he probably would have taken a fancy to the young fashionista, but things like that were of the past. His one hope was that the young man could find love as he did, even if it ended up being all too brief as it had been for Dorian.

There wasn't a day that didn't go by that Dorian didn't miss the Inquisitor of the long since disbanded Inquisition. Save for the coming together of people in that one instance where he could meet Amatus, fate had not smiled upon them as a couple. Of course, they found brief interludes, and used their communication crystals as political life called him back to Tevinter far too often and Amatus was demanded by nearly all. He had thought fate cruel for keeping their time together all too brief as they were pulled different directions, it wasn't the worst it could do. The cruelest act had been saved for the end when fate took the man he loved away from him forever. In some ways it shouldn't have surprised Dorian. There was no way for Amatus not to get involved in events that would change and shape the world. It wasn't a matter of pride and wishing to leave a mark; the man had an insufferable way of wanting to do what was right. When he did try to think selfishly and not do what was right, fate forced his hand and made him the center of things. It, of course, in turn saved his life from the impossible many times over until finally one day it didn't. The improbability with which Amatus survived the impossible, Dorian began to think of his love as unconquerable and maybe even immortal. He had hoped that would have been the case. Never in his wildest dreams did he want to outlive his love and yet here he was. He tried not to think too much about what had happened to rip the other man from his life.

There were too many other things to focus on rather than reflecting on the past and on how much he missed the man that he loved. Of course, he always carried Amatus in his heart and would speak to the air as if the other man was listening from above, but he didn't know for sure. While he himself claimed to be a follower of Andraste on some level he wasn't sure how much of it be believed. It was nice to think about and he hoped that some of the things found in the chant were true. Having experienced a living legend, though, and hearing the stories that were now told by those who knew nothing about his love told him that there was no way for the Chant to be entirely accurate. People blew things out of proportion and some even said that Amatus was the chosen Herald of Andraste, but that wasn't exactly the case. Yet the Maker did shine favor upon his love so it was quite possible that the Maker did the same with Andraste. Who was he to question the Chant of Light and what the Maker may or may not have done? Still these were questions for another time.

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon when Dorian made his way out onto the all too familiar streets. The light created a certain halo glow around things and reflected brilliantly off of the white stone on the columns of his home. There was a light breeze that filtered through the draping that afforded his open wall home a level of privacy. The warm weather of Teventer demanded that things be open to welcome any coming breeze and keep the sun from turning a dwelling into a veritable oven. While the sun provided a brilliant glow around everything, the growing twilight created sharp angles and made shadows long. It was the odd thing about this hour, everything was brighter and sharper and yet distorted at the same time. In some ways Dorian always personally felt that there was some sort of magic to this hour. Maybe that was why he made it his habit to go out daily at this time of day. The heat, while still strong, was just beginning to dip as the high noon hours had passed. The streets were busier still at this time as everyone rushed to get home, get this task or that task done before the sun blinked out of sight for another night.

Dorian breathed deeply and he could catch the scent of fresh flowers on the breeze. There was probably a flower cart nearby and it caused him to smile. Dorian wasn't always one for flowers to keep on his person, but he did appreciate their beauty and smell. Maybe he would change things up and get a small gift for the young fashionista. While he was far too old to be courting the young man, he didn't see any harm in doting a bit. Honestly he couldn't help but flirt a little; there was no real harm in flirting after all. So with feet moving slower than they used to, Doran traversed the paved and dust worn roads, following the scent that was in the air and leaning on his staff more as a walking stick instead of keeping it at his back as a weapon. It was, of course, still a weapon if used properly, not simply a stick to hit people with (which was after all a bit crude); rather it was an object used to focus his magic. Still with his age he needed the added support and the stave served well to do that also.

Using it as a type of walking stick also permitted him to be ever ready should something go awry. Honestly, keeping his stave out more often than not had been a saving grace. There had, been a great number of assassination attempts on his life, none of which surprised him. There were a lot of people who were not fond of his political stance. He sought to change the Imperium and change it he had, but it had not been without great risk to himself. There were many times he had to fend off attackers and fight for his life; it was all part of the Game. Or course there were those who were far more subtle in their actions, so he had to be ever vigilant. Still, having his stave at the ready meant that one was less apt to surprise him and find him un-prepared which in turn struck a rather imposing figure, particularly when he was much younger. Now, Dorian wondered how imposing and impressive he was. He wasn't a hunched over old man nearly infirmed, but he certainly felt his age and knew that his days were numbered should he not suffer the misfortune of an assassination attempt. Truth be told, he was the oldest person to be a member of the political body and to have survived as many attempts on his life as he did. There had to be some kind of record and honestly they should erect a statue in his honor for that! He did cut quite the stunning figure, particularly in his youth, but they probably wouldn't and would honor some other person. Bastards.

As Dorian thought for sure that he was nearing where the flowers were being sold, he passed an alleyway and heard cries and shouts. That? Here? This was the higher end district. Though, if it was a newly appointed magister ill prepared for their position – her's, if he judged the voice correctly – then maybe. Surely she would know to face things with better dignity that all of that! In some ways it wasn't his place to impose or interfere. However, Dorian shook his head and followed the sound of the noises at a much quicker pace than he had been maintaining. It was amazing what a little bit of action did for the soul and body as he moved like he was at least fifteen years younger. His stave was at the ready as he entered into an opening. In the middle was a strong and twisting tree with short brush clinging to its branches. All the homes here seemed to convene and look out onto this court yard with a focus on the tree; it wasn't traditional for living areas there in Teventer but at the same time it wasn't unheard of. Still the tree wasn't Dorian's focus, his eyes were draw to two women facing each other, one face contorted in anger the other, while not angered did seem fairly upset.

"I do appear to have stumbled in at an in opportune time," remarked Dorian with a bit of false modesty.

"Stay out of this old man," spoke the angered woman not even looking up from the glare she was giving other woman.

"You sure? I heard shouting and I just couldn't help myself. I always like to spectate when it comes to a good fight. It's secretly why I joined the Magisterium." Of course that was a lie. It had been a role forced upon him after the assassination of his father. He knew he had been slated to die when he took the role initially. Whatever group that wished that fate upon him never truly revealed themselves which was unfortunate as he had several things he wanted to say to them. If he ever came to learn they were just one of the masses, he would be highly disappointed.

"Aren't you a bit old to be a Magister?" asked woman, finally turning her attention to Dorian and pulling out a stave that had been attached to her back. That escalated quickly. She was a mage too, lovely. That particular nugget was practically making his day. Another fight under his long list of fights, just what he had been looking for. He managed not to roll his eyes.

"Now that is highly offensive! I consider myself to be quite spritely actually."

How could he not address this other mage with his rapier wit before exchanging proverbial blows? Now, the question was why the other person, who had been suffering under the ire of his now opponent, wasn't scurrying off. Andraste help him, why did he get involved in such things? Of course, Amatus was to blame for this. Damn him for making him a better person.

"This has nothing to do with you, _Magister_."

"Funny, I'm starting to get the distinct feeling now that it might." As Dorian spoke he realized that the female mage was no longer looking directly at him, but rather just behind him. He tried to turn knowing that there was an attacker behind him, but the realization came too late as a hard blow came crashing against the back of his skull sending a white blinding light across his vision as he collapsed to the ground.

"Leave him. He's an innocent and we don't need anyone investigating things."

Dorian could hear the footsteps of not two but three people running away. The other woman, the less angry one was with them? Slave or indentured servant perhaps? Those were not as popular now as they were in the past. Something was afoot and he needed to see this through. He looked up enough and cast a spell that would aid him in tracking the three down. Honestly he now had a grievance to repay. They may have spared his life, but he certainly didn't thank them for the knot that was now forming at the back of his head.

"I am getting too old for this," he complained as he got up. He couldn't waste time as the spell only lasted so long and only had a certain range. Using his stave, he pushed himself to his feet. This was one time he found himself wishing he had specialized in a few healing spells, something to sooth away the pain and help make the world right rather than the spinning blur that it currently was.

As he moved something told him that there was more than met the eye, particularly since they were looking to not be investigated. That was the very reason to investigate. If these people were some sort of radicals looking to undo the good work that he and many others had done and even died for, he would see himself damned first before he allowed it to happen, not because he was looking for self-gratification, but rather because it was those very good things that Amatus had died for. He had worked to save the world from itself and outside forces many times over, and Dorian wouldn't see it squandered. Not to mention, he was far too familiar with what could be done with poorly wielded magic, particularly the kind that should not be tampered with. Of course, he had no proof that this was the case, but this was Tevinter after all, and he was taking no chances.

Despite the blow taking the wind out of him, Dorian was able to find the strength to keep pushing to keep tabs on this odd little group. He was skilled, that was certain, but him, a lone mage, against three others was not going to be easy. The rogue was going to be particularly difficult with his stealth abilities. Then he had a fellow mage to work against and if she wasn't opposed to blood magic... Dorian tried not to entertain the thought too much. The final person was an unknown quantity. She could be anything or nothing, it was impossible to know. Of course, Dorian wasn't fool hardy enough to think on directly confronting this particular traveling party, but he knew that there were risks involved in the whole process. He needed to be as prepared as he possibly could. If there came a point where the option was between doing the right thing and letting them possibly rip the world apart, he was going to act.

As he followed at a distance Dorian began to wonder when he gotten to be so pessimistic. He considered things and to be honest, he had always had a certain level of pessimism in his life. He always made the 'best' of it whenever he could. In some ways he felt that was the only way to look at life: take the far too horrific and sad parts of life and make the best of it. Though there were some things that he couldn't just forget, let go and make the best of. Of course, those were the things he many times buried deep and hardly allowed to come to light, such as his tenuous relationship with his father before his death. Things had never been kosher between the two of them and Dorian still found it hard at times to let go of the fact that his father tried to use magic to get the son he wanted instead of accepting him for who and what he was. Although, his father, may he rest in peace (if such a thing could be found for him) did try to apologize for his actions. It had still been a tenuous relationship despite that to say the least. Yet that was water long under the bridge and there was now little that could be done about the whole situation now. Though while he had been living it, the matter had weighed heavily on him. He simply had kept that fact hidden, and made the best of life.

Murder, mayhem and intrigue though? That was part of daily life. Instead of worrying and fretting over it, it was best to enjoy and make light of it. Otherwise you were going to sink in this world and if there was anything that could be said of him, Dorian was something of a survivor. Typically, self-preservation was chief on his list, at least till it came to a matter of everyone and everything being damned. Or Amatus. It was a wonder how that man changed him so, and oh how did he miss him even to this day, years and years since he lost his other half.

Dorian brushed the stray thoughts of his past from his mind as he realized that his quarry had come to a halt. He needed to do the same as well so as not to be detected. He could just hear voices and the angry woman was speaking once more.

"That was a close one. I told you to be quieter, Merva, or we would be discovered!"

"It was an old man, Uni. There is no reason to fret. We have what we need." So the two women were working together after all?

"I should have just killed him, tied up loose ends. You know I wouldn't have been detected. I'm too good for that. He would have been just one more dead man found in the streets, mourned by his family if there were any, and life would move on," said a male voice, whom Dorian assumed was the one to thank for the knot on the back of his head.

"Now you know that goes against our creed. Kill only when necessary," answered the voice of Merva.

Dorian assumed she was the one he had tried to help earlier, but what was this about a creed? Noble as the concept of killing only when necessary was, Dorian still wondered about their intents. They had been gathering something and were indeed worried about discovery, two things that did not add up well in his books.

"Well do we have everything we need?" asked the rogue seeming intent on changing the topic. To Dorian it seemed like he might not be fully on board with this 'creed'.

"Luckily we do, though we almost didn't thanks to Merva's inability to keep surefooted."

"Well then do your magic-y stuff then and let's forget this place!"

"It isn't as simple as that," countered Merva. "Magic of this level is very precise and delicate. One does not simply wave a stave around when dealing with rare magics. This isn't some freezing spell, or fire blast, it requires a lot of power as well. Not to mention Tinia isn't here."

"Fine, but haven't most of the rituals gone against the creed?" asked the rogue.

"Not if the participants willingly take part in the ritual or are deserving of death. Remember it is all for the greater good."

They had to be talking about blood magic. There was a very fine line when it came to blood magic and most of it wasn't good, particularly when it came to sacrificing lives, deserving or not. Dorian's hand tightened around his stave. He was going to need to do something about it, particularly with untested magic being involved as well. If he survived, he was going to go home and drink himself into a stupor as it had already been one of those days.

Now the question was, how was he going to pull this off? Three against one wasn't exactly even odds and it wasn't like there was much in the way of back up, even if he could get that. He didn't want to fight, but he would if he had to. If he went with the option of not fighting them to give them a chance to talk, he would lose the element of surprise. Amatus would have known what to do; he would also have the aid of others nearby without a doubt. Dorian was alone in this. He let out a sigh and decided to lose the element of surprise. Everyone died eventually anyway, right? At least he could say he tried which is more than anyone would have asked of him. Honestly, none would have blamed him if he simply walked away and pretended he didn't hear a thing about what they were planning to do, which wasn't much, but at the same time he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave well enough alone, and he had Amatus to blame for that.

With a sigh Dorian stepped forward, "You know I'm disappointed you didn't invite me to your little party. We were having such a good time before, and how can one really resist a good blood ritual?"

He did catch the three by surprise.

"You again!" spoke the rouge pulling out his blade clearly ready to attack. "I knew I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Wait, Aita!" spoke Uni, the apparent leader of this small group, holding up a staying had to the other man.

"How did you find us?" asked Merva looking at Dorian with quirk of her head as she studied him with her intelligent and inquisitive eyes. Dorian got the feeling that she might recognize that he tried to help her a while back, even if she didn't need saving.

"Well, I suppose you could call that a particular skill of mine. I think you'll forgive me if I'm sketchy with the details. I happen to have the most horrendous of headaches, as if someone had given me a sharp blow to the back of the head." Dorian rubbed the back of his neck just below the knot that was forming at the base of his skull, which was going to hurt for some time.

"What do you want, old man? Do you have death wish or something?" snapped Aita who was not attacking but seemed quite ready to do such with his blades drawn.

"Or something," answered Dorian keeping a very cool demeanor. "I thought killing me went against this creed of yours. I hope you can forgive me - I couldn't help over hearing some of your discussion. It all sounds very fascinating. Particularly the part about not killing innocents and yet being willing to commit a blood magic ritual that apparently will take a life - very interesting indeed."

"I would say that killing you might have just become necessary."

"Aita…" Merva gave the rogue a warning glance.

"Just leave, old man. This has nothing to do with you."

Dorian watched all three carefully, keeping his back to a wall, as there was a fourth that had yet to arrive. Knowing his luck, it would be another rogue who had skills with a bow. It wasn't like he was in the habit of wearing armor after all. His clothing was light, due to the heat. Despite the regular threats on his life, he refused to live his life in fear, wearing nothing but armor all the time. Not to mention, it was completely unfashionable to do so unless one was a Chevalier, which he was not. A marksman worth his salt could easily send an arrow to the neck or heart and that would be the end, so he needed to watch for that. Still, his eyes drifted some to Uni.

"You know I never was very good at following directions of any kind. My father was good witness to that and I'd have you ask him if he were still alive."

"Do you ever talk straight?" demanded Aita.

That amused Dorian. Clearly the man had never met the likes of Sera who could talk your ears off and was mad as hell, or Cole whose words always had layered meanings. He wasn't sure what became of either of them, but that was so long ago that he wasn't sure it mattered much anymore.

"Shall I revert to using small words? I thought you rogue types had a certain level on intelligence unlike most warriors." He then made an exaggerated gesture toward himself and acting as if he were talking to an exceptionally dim witted person who could barely speak in common tongue. "Me magister."

He rather enjoyed mocking this other man even if it was a potentially dangerous thing to do. There were times when he honestly didn't know when to leave well enough alone, and thus continued in his halted speak and emphatic gestures. "You make problem? Me try to stop you."

The rogue rolled his eyes and pointed one of his blades at Dorian. "Is that a threat? If so, I hope you aren't alone."

"Not a threat, just a given fact," answered Dorian dropping his act. "I've seen far too much in my time to see some young upshots try and destroy the world. It may not be perfect, but I honestly have grown quiet fond of it. You help save it once or twice and the whole ordeal grows to be a force of habit. So please, don't tell me you are hell bent on destroying this world or some other equally crazy and dangerous feat."

"Since when has the world needed saving?" asked a deep and cool male voice, which Dorian assumed belonged to the one the small group had been waiting for, Tinia.

"Have people already forgotten recent history? Surely it hasn't been that long has it?"

The four across from Dorian looked at him blankly.

"The scar in the sky? The Inquisition?" tried Dorian. The scar was mostly healed but there were still some small signs in the sky. It was miraculous how the scarring was healing quite nicely.

"Most of that was heretical thinking, myths, no more real than everything that supposedly happened to Andraste herself. It's an exaggeration, spun straight from a bard's song, much like the Hero of Ferelden. A Herald of Andraste? Where is he now? He disappeared after a time never to be heard from ever again." Merva spoke with utter conviction in her words.

This caught Dorian off guard. "While some rumors ran rampant at the time, not all of it is as ill-conceived as you might think."

"You attracted the attention of a fanatical?" asked Tinia, shield strapped to his back, clearly a warrior.

"I am not a fanatical," spoke Dorian now feeling affronted. "I was there with the Inquisition working to seal the breach."

"That's what everyone your age says," dismissed Tinia with a wave of his hand as he looked to his companions.

"Do they say that they knew the Inquisitor intimately as well, I wonder," said Dorian casually despite how he found himself a fair bit perturbed to hear such flippant attitudes to what happened. Being recognized and adored for his actions was not why he signed up with the Inquisition in the first place. Of course he still wouldn't mind having that statue though, but it wasn't why he did it. He wanted to save the world, save Teventier, be something different, more than what was expected of him. He wanted to make a difference, something he had done once, and was that all for naught?

"That would be a new one," said Tinia almost seeming to be at least a little bit impressed.

"Those are some mighty words if that is what you are claiming," said Aita a very cross look on his face. He seemed a bit twitchy a person who seemed to act first at times before thinking, which held great potential for trouble.

"Never mind what relation he claims to have to the Inquisitor or what he claims happened in the past," said Uni in a rather commanding voice drawing the attention of all present. "The past has little to no impact on the present or what we are here for. We are looking toward the future to make the world a better place. To make it something that we can be proud of, something of our own crafting where there is no fear of mage or magic. Where it can be used to its full potential!"

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," said Dorian readying his stave. He was going to have to act smart and quick. It was a challenge but he could do this, he had to. It was too late to back out and get the aid of others, not that there were many who would be willing to step in and do something about this.

Aita gave out a great laugh, "You actually think you can stop us?"

"If I must." Dorian's voice was steeled as he started to plan his next moves to try and survive this. Why did he have to get involved?

"That is a pity."

"Pray tell me why?" asked Dorian hoping to keep the others talking and possibly buy himself a bit more time to prepare.

"I would hate to have to kill you."

"Ah, your creed right?"

"There is that, and I believe you when you speak of your connection to the events of the past."

So he believed what happened in the past. "There is some credence to a number of the past events."

"All the more reason why we must succeed!" interjected Uni.

"Surely we can talk this out then before anyone makes a hasty action." Maybe there was an out. Dorian doubted it, but a man could try, right?

"The less that you know, the better." Aita moved in closer ready to attack.

The time for talking had come to an end and Dorian made a swift movement with his stave and used a type of fade step to move from where he was to the other side of his opponents. It would only afford him a few seconds of time. It was unfortunate that it wasn't a spell he could use frequently. He had some lyrim on him if he needed, but he didn't know if it was enough. He was going to have to play this smart. First step was to incapacitate the mages while keeping away from the rogue and the warrior. He didn't have something that would last long, but two freezing spells were shot quickly at the two women before they reacted. By that point, he had the other two rushing toward him; Aita disappeared into a cloud of smoke typical of a rogue.

With the last of what he had, Dorian waved his stave over the ground around him and he could see the faint runic circles glow around him. That would give him something of a warning should the rogue get too close. It would not be much of a warning, but it might afford him the ability to block should the rogue attack him. He then quickly drank one of the potions he had on him so that he could focus more power on the warrior.

With a spin of his stave he caused an electrical charge to rip through the air toward the other man, knowing it would be attracted to the warrior's metal plating. The seconds were ticking away faster than he wouldn't have liked and if he wasn't careful he was going to have not just an approaching rogue and a warrior to deal with, but the ice from the spell he had casted on the females was going to melt. It wasn't as long lasting of a spell as he wouldn't have liked. He needed to think of something a little more broad-spectrum before it was too late. Again, why did he allow himself to get into this sort of situation? While not devote to the faith, he threw an incoherent prayer to the Maker whom he was certain would not come rushing to his hid aid. Honestly, if there was someone from the beyond this realm that was going to come and help him, it would be Amatus and he doubted that he was going to even be that lucky.

Not only was Dorian not that lucky, it would seem that his luck would run out before he could bank on it any further. While he was prepared for an approach by the rogue, he made one serious miscalculation when it came to Aita: daggers, rogues could throw daggers. That realization came in the form of a well-placed knife in his side, causing Dorian to cry out in pain as he leaned on his stave for support. This was not going was well as hoped, particularly when the freezing spell released on the mages. So this was it then, this was how he was going to die, doing a fool's errand? Not if he could help it!

It was amazing how the will to live could suddenly spark in the individual, and Dorian was no less different. Pulling from deep resources within, he pushed himself to stand upright and despite the pain, he lifted his stave in the air and whirled it around. In some ways he only had one chance at this and if it failed he was done for, or so he thought. With great force he slammed the end of his stave into the ground and caused a wave of force to emanate from the top as he bowed just below its impact, clinging to the stave not only to maintain the full effect of his spell but also to steady himself, as the spell combined with his injury took a lot out of him.

The magic had the desired effect, sending all in the surrounding area backward and causing Uni, he believed it was, to go crashing into a white sandstone wall that was now marred with her blood. It was an effect Dorian did not hope to have, but at the same time it could be marked as self-defense to a degree.

It still had a desired effect as the blow seemed to impact the group in more than one way. The rogue, instead of coming back at him, cried out "Uni!" and was more focused to get up from where he was thrown back to tend to her rather than to go after Dorian again. That left Merva and Tinia then. Dorian tried to ascertain the status of the other two when there was a loud cry of "Enough!"

Before Dorian could react, he found himself powerless to move. He was frozen in place and he felt a certain placidity try to overcome him, a desire to be comfortable to be in bliss. A feeling in some ways he hadn't felt since his days with Amatus. At the thought of his love, Dorian knew that this was wrong. Amatus was not there with him and this feeling was not real. What sort of magic was this? Despite the desire to still give in, the weakness from the blood loss, and the use of a powerful magical spell, Dorian cried out himself.

"NO!" and another flash of light filled the area blinding him and dulling his senses, it was like being knocked out, however he found himself still standing and leaning on his stave. A voice broke over him, bringing him back to reality after that deafening moment.

"Why didn't it work? It should have worked! Why did it have no effect on him?" said Merva as she stared down at a golden orb that was sitting in her hands. It resembled too closely the sphere that Coryphaeus had once used, which didn't sit comfortably with Dorian. If that orb had anything to do with the magic that he had just experienced being used against him, he liked it even less.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Dorian running on adrenaline and anger not acknowledging the fact that he was still fairly injured. He gaze was directed at Merva who was focused on the orb. It was clear that thing controlled people, and if there was anything worse than blood magic it was magic like that. He was certain, though, it required a certain level of blood magic and he had deep seeded issues with that. He would see that thing destroyed if he could get the opportunity.

Breathing heavily Dorian continued to lean on his stave and moved with a limp toward Merva with the intent to destroy the orb. A closer proximity would grant him a better chance of doing that, if it could even be destroyed. However, it seemed that Tinia the warrior had other plans in mind as he seemed to have recovered quick enough from the last spell and now had a blade to his neck.

"You have caused us enough trouble, old man," spoke the savage voice, and Dorian chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye to see that he did indeed at least cause some damage for the warrior. Of course, that was a very short lived victory considering that there was a blade against his neck and death was immanent if the other man wished for it to be so.

"This, along with the other artifacts, will be our salvation," spoke Merva ignoring the fact that there was a sword to Dorian's throat or that one of her comrades was injured.

"Do you have the shawl?" cried out the rogue, Aita.

Tinia, with his free hand that was not holding his weapon, reached into a satchel he had on him and tossed it over to the other man.

"Please work, please work," murmured the rogue who sounded very choked up as he started to administer the shawl to Uni who was still prone.

Despite the danger that he was in Dorian watched with some interest. Uni didn't seem to be breathing and he wasn't sure how a shawl would work, save to perhaps stop the bleeding, but that wasn't going to be worth much if she was already dead.

There was a punctuated quiet moment in the air before a loud gasp of air elicited from Uni as she began to stir.

"How is that even possible?" Dorian marveled at the small miracle, forgetting for a moment the danger he himself was in. Of course, he was familiar with healing spells, but none were cast and he was quite certain that the rogue was not a healer or mage of any sort. Not to mention the art of bringing back the dead was something he was quite familiar with, having a personal talent for it himself, but this in many ways defied the laws of necromancy. The dead could be given form and a sort of life but life itself, true life, once lost was lost and could not be brought back, only a ghost of what once was and even that was a poor imitation. This … this was something completely different.

"Impressive, no?" asked Merva having seemed to have regained her composure from before. "It's a something Uni and I have been working on. I am glad to see that some of our inventions have worked at least." She gave a slight frown at the golden orb that was still in her hands.

"Our artifacts aren't infallible, close, but not completely," said the hoarse voice of Uni as she started to sit up. There was a deeply worried look on Aita's face as he still held onto the shawl and Dorian knew that pained look. He had worn a similar one when he thought Amatus was hurt or he thought he was going to lose him. Of course, nothing was worse than when it finally did happen. If only he had been there...

"It didn't work at all," argued Merva acting as if nothing had happened to her – friend? Dorian wasn't sure if they were indeed friends but they were working together.

"I'm not so sure." Uni seemed to be quite focused on the conversation at hand rather than coming to terms that she had most likely been dead and was now returned to life in ways that should not have been possible.

"There was a moment when this man was under the spell of the Apple," said Tinia.

"If it only truly works on the weak willed, and if this man is a magister as he claims to be, particularly at his age, then there is certainly a very strong will that resides in him. Even more so if he has played a part in our all too questionable history," said Merva as if ideas were finally forming.

"Why is it so hard for the younger generation to believe what actually happened did indeed happen?" exasperated Dorian despite the sword that was still to his neck.

"Because the stories are farfetched," answered Tinia, placing the cool flat of his blade against Dorian's neck to remind him of the position he was in.

Dorian got the message and cleared his throat some before he answered. "Much in the same way that anyone told of this magic shawl healing the dead won't believe it."

Impossible things were possible, improbable maybe, but not impossible. Amatus was proof enough of that.

"Luckily it is not something we intend for the world to know about," answered Merva moving over to the rogue and taking the shawl away from him and hording the items a bit like a greedy child jealously collecting their toys. That kind of mentality was dangerous in the hands of someone playing with such powerful toys.

"Then what is your intent?"

"Do you not have any respect for the position you are in, old man?" snapped Tinia pressing with his blade again breaking the skin a bit.

"Yes, well, I figure if I am going to die anyway I might as well go to the grave satisfied with a few answers. Dead men hardly tell any tales, though there might be the rare and nearly impossible exceptions."

Dorian glanced at Uni who was now getting up and knowing that she should not be sitting up and talking as she was. It was a true miracle in a lot of ways, more than Dorian was used to and that was saying something considering all the things he had lived to see. Of course at what price did such a magical shawl come at? Powerful magic wasn't just something that was created from thin air. Did the shawl demand a life for a life or something?

"Tinia, please," spoke Merva who seemed to have a great deal of patience. She held out a staying hand to the warrior. While she may have stayed Tinia from acting further, she didn't tell him to step down like she had before, though Dorian didn't blame her. He had not exactly made friends here and he didn't question that decision. He did question himself, though, about getting involved in the first place, particularly now that it meant that this might actually be the end for him. He was sure that if he were to die here an entire assassins' guild was going to be highly disappointed.

"We are looking to better our future with these artifacts and a few more that we have planned, we can create a better future."

"At what cost? When does controlling people's minds constitute a better future? There have been many attempts at that and all have failed in one way or another."

"Other attempts were not as thorough nor were they well planned out," countered Uni.

"The cost has been none but our own. Only those dedicated to the cause have paid any price for what we have today and they believed in what we are doing."

"Have you lost your minds?" asked Dorian anger building up in him. This wasn't right. They were dabbling in magic that should not exist and had plans he did not want to see come to fruition. He wasn't going to be able to take these four head on again, but if he could escape, stop them some way, destroy or take one of the artifacts... Dorian's mind started to race as Merva spoke up once more.

"No more than the world itself already has, worshiping a past martyr and lauding a man lucky enough to survive a cataclysm that has been blown well out of proportion. The Dragon Age is ending, and a new one is about to begin. We are not going to sit idly by and watch if all fall to ruin, nor are we going to let an old man like you stop us!

Dorian knew that this was the time to act, he knew it was a risk as there was a blade against his neck, but it was his only hope. He used a small magical force blast. It was a smaller version of what he had previously cast, just enough to push Tinia back. Of course the risk came with where the blade moved when he did this. If he was going to die anyway, might as well be on his terms.

However, fate did seem to smile on him once more as the blade, along with the warrior, did no more damage to him and was pushed away. It was in that moment that Dorian waved his stave once more. He didn't have time for any powerful bit of magic and he only had one shot at this as he fired a bit of magical energy from his stave toward Merva and the artifacts.

Of course Merva moved to act at the same time and the magic of her artifact and his spell combined together in the most unexpected of ways. If there had been time to think Dorian would have questioned how it was possible, but maybe his magic interacted with an item other than the shroud or apple as a portal opened. While portals were farfetched, in some respects Dorian was familiar with them to a degree having dealt with a bit of time magic in his past as well. That was another piece of magic that was tricky, dangerous, and best left well alone. Yet here he was faced with more people who didn't know better than to leave well enough alone.

"What have you done?" shrieked Merva before she was pulled into the portal.

"The artifacts!" cried Uni following after Merva. Of course, it was no surprise that the rogue followed Uni considering he was in love. This left Tinia the warrior, who looked between Dorian and the portal before cursing and following his companions before it snapped shut.

Dorian was left to wonder what actually had happen as the only signs that anything had occurred were the blood-stained wall and a curious coin, unlike any he had seen before. It had on one side a tapered 'V' symbol, Dorian noted, and a type of cross on the other.


End file.
